


Meeting the Family

by wanderingquill



Series: Rose Among The Thorns [4]
Category: Outlast (Video Games)
Genre: Cliche, F/M, M/M, Meeting the Parents, Tropes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 07:41:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17137745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wanderingquill/pseuds/wanderingquill
Summary: After Murkoff has been dealt with, beheaded, burned, and buried. Omega!Miles and Alpha!Chris and their friends can finally stop running to survive. Miles is about to bring his boyfriend of six years home to officially meet his family.(After being more or less off the radar and only randomly calling his family with a payphone every couple of months to tell him he's not dead yet.)Both survived everything Murkoff has thrown at them. How stressful could a weekend with Miles's family be?





	Meeting the Family

**Author's Note:**

  * For [milesupshurhell.tumblr](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=milesupshurhell.tumblr).



> If the font is bolded , it means the person is speaking in Spanish. Normally I'd change the color or style of font to convey language or dialect change, but ao3 doesn't have that option.  
> Please be sure to share or comment if you enjoyed reading this. Enjoy <3

     “Okay, we gotta review what you know about my family.”

“We are just going to hang with your parents and siblings right?”

“That's still seven people, not including in laws and nieces and nephews. I screw up the names sometimes.”

“Miles.”

“Just tell me what you remember.”

“Your mom is Maria Upshur, a Omega lady from Argentina. Your Dad is Jose Lopez, Alphaen man from Mexico. You have two older sisters , Esme and Camilla. Their both Alphas who married beta guys.  And two younger siblings, Tomas and Gabriela who haven't shown yet but probably also Alphas. You have like seven nieces and nephews under ten. And you have at least four or five Alpha uncles and aunts on both sides of your family tree. And something south of thirtysomething first cousins.”

       “Good enough. Just keep saying their names in conversation so you'll more likely to remember. I mess up mostly because I called my sisters asses so much as kids I forgot their names sometimes.”

“That's horrible.”

“Hey they did equally messed up things. It's mayhem growing up with siblings. Like feudal lords except the land is bathrooms and closet space or toys.”

“Well at least you were never lonely.”

“That’s because with siblings, you never get the time alone long enough to be lonely.”

“I wouldn’t know. I’m from a family of three.”

“Yeah, well pros and cons for either I guess. Thank god for birth control tho. We’d be pulling napping kids off the rafters if we didn’t have it.”

Miles meant this as a joke. Trying to lighten the mood as they drove the last leg of their journey. Chris didn’t respond, just chuckled and put on the radio. He tried to think of something else and not coo at the idea of having babies that look like him and Miles. They haven’t talked about kids yet. Be a bit forward to wax poetic about how he’d love to have a billion kids with Miles. Even if it was only in his own head. Especially since Omegean men’s pregnancies can be scary and they aren’t even engaged. Not to mention they still don’t know if the Walrider and Miles can survive being separated that long.

The rest of the drive went by smoothly. Which was odd and Chris knew something was wrong. Miles drove like a aggressive New Yorker, bold but precise. He wasn’t driving JUST under the speed limit. Miles was being a cautious driver. Chris decided to wait until they got closer to the in-law’s house before saying something.

“Miles, are you okay? Like okay okay?”

“Yeah, just just, jittery I guess. Overthinking probably. Feel like I forgot something. But the Walrider is in the car and everything went right in checklist before we left.”

“Just breath, and think of food or something. Something that doesn’t mean much outside of enjoying it.”

“Fuck that reminds me what I forgot.” Miles explained as they were pulling into the Latino neighborhood near his parent’s house.

 

After they pulled into the dry driveway next to his parent’s house. Miles turned off the radio and turned to Chris.

“Okay, but just one more warning, before we go in. This one is _really_ important to remember. Fuck up names, it’s fine. But I need to warn you about some shit. It can go really fucking wrong if I don’t.” Miles’s body language and scent went from stressed to downright anxious. Like “I’m about to fall off a cliff” kind of anxiety. Chris leaned over to try and ground Miles with touch. That usually worked when either of them got trapped in their own head.

“It will be fine, why are you worked up?”

“I’ve seen some of my family sporadically since the trial. But this is the first time we’re doing a normal family shindig. And you’re here. I just don’t want any Murphy’s bullshit to happen.”

Chris rubbed Miles’s neck as he tried to calm down by doing a breathing exercise.

“Miles, just breath. It will be fine. And if it’s not, it will be eventually. Their your family, they love you, and I love you. It will be fine.”

Miles nuzzled against Chris’s palm as his breathing finally calmed down a little.

“Okay.”

“Okay. Now what was the last thing I should know?”

“Do not eat anything my Dad hands you unless my mom specifically made it and you saw it go directly from her.”

“Why?” Chris asked, wondering why the hell would he need to know this.  
“Because you will die if you eat my Pops food.”

“Miles.”

“ I’m being serious. If my Moms cooking we should be fine. But if my Pops is near the stove. Demand milk and pray. That's all you can do. His spice preferences could kill a lesser Mexican.”

“Miles. I've had some Mexican food before. I'll be fine.”

“No you had Americanized diluted to be edible Mexican inspired fast food. That's like mashed potatoes for someone like my Pops.”

Chris chuckled at Miles exaggerated expressions. It might be intense, but he trusts his possible in-laws aren’t trying to murder him.

“I think I can survive a spicy meal.”

“Just ask for milk.  I don’t want to take you to a hospital to get your stomach pumped. And yes, that’s actually a possibility.”

“I’ll take small bites. Now, let’s meet your family.”

Miles responded by honking the horn of his jeep before turning off the car.

Chris got out after grabbing the box of bottles with nice Spanish wine he found at a wine store near his gym. He got them on sale and a Veterans discount, so he bought a small crate. It’s rude to visit and not bring a gift, and bringing this much means more of Miles’s family can actually get around to tasting it.

Turning away from the car, Chris saw Miles being lifted up by a slim dark mustached Alpha. The Alpha was barely taller than Miles but was lifting him well off the ground. Miles’s feet dangled as he tried to breath.

“You’re killing me Pops.” Miles huffed as his arms were pinned to his sides by the embrace. The large dark man put down his son in a huff. And sarcastical said in slow English, intentional to make it clearer and snarkier.

“Well, _sorry._ Sorry for wanting to hug my prodigal son I haven’t seen in years.”

“Pops, please. Not with the guilt yet. I just got here.”

“Fine. So you must be the Christopher my wife told me about?” Jose said as he leaned to shake Chris’s hand. Chris easily held the large box under his left arm as he went to shake the man’s hand.

“Christopher Walker, Mr.Lopez. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sir. Miles has told me so much about your family.”

“Horrible things, I’m sure. What do you got there?” The man asked as he heard rustling under Chris’s arm.

“Oh, this is for you and your wife. It’s a box of wine called Monastrell. I hope you all like it.”

“That’s some pricey booze, Walker. Let me bring it inside to cool. Mama will be out soon.” And the larger man gently took the box of wine and booked it inside. Miles almost started laughing at how fast his Pops ran while carrying a crate of rich wine.

        “Christopher!” Chris heard as a short Latina woman, with Miles’s hair and features walked out greet them. Chris had to crouch to make eye contact while shaking her hand due to the height difference.

“So you’re the one whose been keeping my wild boy safe all this time.”

“Yes, ma’am. But Miles can keep care of himself most of the time, but I worry.”

“So do I. But thank you for making sure my child had someone to care about him when we can’t reach him.”

“I’m RIGHT HERE.” Miles pouted as his mother pinched Chris’s cheeks in affection and fixed his hair.

“Welcome home, mijo” Ms.Upshur opened her arms to welcome Miles’s into a hug. Only to grab him by the ear when he got close enough. And whispered in Spanish.

_“You stuck your head into a lion cage and we don’t get to see you for years you idiot. Not knowing if my boy was cut open and tossed in a ditch somewhere by Murkoff.”_

      She spat on the ground into the bushes when she said the name Murkoff. Which was the only word Chris could make out. She was lecturing Miles in such rapid speed , it was like listening to the side effects in a commercial for a faulty medical device. Except the narrator was a Spanish sports announcer with a foul opinion of the product. Chris was unsure what to do as he watched Miles whine and apologize. Before his mom pulled her son towards the humble house and out of the front yard.

Mrs. Upshur only stopped when she looked down the hallway into the kitchen. Her husband standing in front of her stove, and probably up to no good.

“We will continue this later , Mijo. I have to go chase your father out of the kitchen now.”

She let go of Miles ear before booking it towards the kitchen.

**_“Jose what ungodly things are you doing to my cooking!?”_ **

 

Miles rubbed his neck and ear after being freed. Chris carefully walked through the narrow doorway to follow him inside. Chris whispered as he asked Miles.

“I thought you said she was done with being mad at you.”

Miles spoke in  soft tone, even tho he could see his mother far ahead in the kitchen still. “No. I said she was so done with me. She’s going to be lecturing her great grandchild from the afterlife about me.”

“Ah. Well, she is a mother. Part of her job to worry. But why did she spit?”

“It’s old superstition , like spit to shame the Devil. And because the name alone makes her sick over how much evil they got away with. Spit on the company name so it can never come back to do more evil.”

“That makes as much sense as my Dad lifting his feet when passing graveyards and doing a cross I guess.”

“Come come in. I made food. You two must be hungry.”

“We could eat.”

“Okay, good. I was just making a light lunch for everyone.” Ms.Upshur  turned back to the kitchen. Her husband was already trying again to “spice up” the meal to his tastes. Miles’s mothers ran back into the kitchen commenting.

**_“Jose, stop messing with the food already.”_ **

   Chris looked at Miles. He could feel some punchline coming after the innocent comment. The tiny forced neutral smile and the sparkle in Miles’s eyes told the joke without a single word. Let’s just say it involved the phrase “eat out” and Chris’s skill set in the bedroom. The joke left rhetorically but the conversation of “bad sex joke” and “Miles, please, not in front of your parents” was clearly communicated through their expressions and body language. Chris waited until Miles’s stopped snickering at his unsaid joke before following behind him into the kitchen.

Chris walked in just as Jose was running out with a bowl of something red with green flakes.

**_“That man will be the end of us one day, I swear.”_ **

**_“You got the stuff out right?”_** Miles asked cautiously as he took a place at the small table in the kitchen. Luckily the chairs were all the large sturdy kind his parents got when they got married. So Chris didn’t feel self conscious about sitting down on small chairs.

**_“Yeah, I scooped some out. But who knows how much your father put in.”_ **

Chris only understood half of what was said. The air in the kitchen smelled warmed and tingled his nose, but it was far from unpleasant.

“Whatever you made ma’am, it smells wonderful.”

“Thank you Christopher, I made salsa ranchera and heated some buns.  It’s like soup. It’s light food.”

She said as she poured the delicious smelling concoction into the remaining bowls at the table.

“It’s a little hot, because I couldn’t get all them out fast enough. But I tasted it  and it is mild enough for my wild child here.” Mrs.Upshur emphasized “wild child” by grandma pinching Miles’s cheek before he could start eating. “So you should be fine.”

“Thank you ma’am.” Chris politely said as he reached to grab a hot roll in the bowl on the table.

            Miles took the first bite of the ranchera and immediately got up from the table to grab the full carton of whole milk from the fridge. Making sure to get two large glasses for each of them. And leaving the carton on the table next to them when he sat down again. Chris dipped a piece of the bread into the ranchera and took a bite. It had a kick to it, but not too far out of his comfort zone. It’s unlike Miles to overworry, but this might be a rare thing. Having your parents meet your soulmate for the first time is stressful.

“You okay?” Mrs.Upshur made sure to ask as Chris tasted the food.

“It’s a little intense. But I’m fine.”

“Good. I’d have to make a new batch if it was hot.”

“It is hot Mom. That’s why I brought out the milk.”

**_“Mijo, it’s not that hot.”_ **

“My wild child here was so pale and so _sensitive_ to foods, his cousins thought there was a mix up at the hospital. I had to make a unspiced serving for almost every meal or serve those chicken nuggets for him as a boy”

Chris continued to slowly sip his ranchera as he listened to his possible in-law.  It was a little stronger in kick without eating it with bread, but he was doing fine. Miles  then gave his two cents.

“I told you, family told me I was adopted. But Mama, I like spicy foods. I just don’t like setting my mouth on fire like Pops and his family.”

“Thankfully, I found some recipes like this that everyone enjoys. Except your father, who keeps TRYING TO SNEAK BACK IN.” Mrs.Upshur leaned back in her chair and yelled at the archway to the tv room. A soft “fuck” was heard before Mr.Upshur ran back into the the other room. Maria just sighed and went.

“He’s impossible.”

“He could have wanted seconds.” Chris said , his eyes started to feel a little watery. He had to keep refilling his milk. The spiced concoction after taste had a helluva punch to it. But he had milk, and he could eat it slower.

“He would have gotten seconds if he didn’t try to take over my kitchen. Now he has to wait til dinner.” Mrs.Upshur firmly stated as she continued to eat. Ignoring her Alpha husband’s whining from the tv room. Miles snickered but didn’t comment as he continued to eat his food.

      “So Christopher, we were told you were in the Army before that thing hired you.”

“Yes ma'am I served in Afghanistan….” Chris was reluctant to talk about Murkoff or his tours with most people. He had lost friends and still dealing with the effects of Murkoff. Miles could read Chriss discomfort a mile away and took control of the conversation.

         “Yeah. He served in Afghanistan. The same place i got dispatched actually. Remember Ma? My lead guy at the paper got some fungus thing in Java while on vacation and I was the only one screaming to go?”

     Chris sighed in relief as Miles took hold of the conversation topic. He didn't want to be a downer or rude, but his past wasn't the related to his family wasn't the best topic for a first meeting. He just listened intently as Miles and his mother in law got into a back and forth story of Miles’s big break in Afghanistan.

Chris sided with Maria in the regards of the assignment being too dangerous given Miles’s youth and lack of field work in the region. But relented that Miles had been old enough to make his own decisions. And the topic dropped at a stalemate.

Chris felt sweaty as he continued to eat the soupy meal. He had inhaled half the bread bowl trying to pace himself. Why does his neck feel hot? Probably just nerves. He got up to grab another liter of milk from the fridge. Getting back to find Mrs. Upshur brought out her iPad and showing pictures of grandchildren.

     “Christopher, I was just showing Esme’s baby boys. Remus and Alexander. They were born three years ago”

“Remus was named after me! My middle name I mean.”

   “Cause we thought you were dead.”

“You have to be missing for seven years to be declared dead.”

       “You dropped out of our lives for almost five. We had good reason to assume dead or dying between bi yearly phone calls.”

“I called you almost twice a month from burner phones I bought for just calling you.”

        “Yeah a phone call at 4 AM that lasts ten minutes really screams deep family connections.” Miles’s mom chided as she refilled her and Miles’s bowls. Chris was still working on his.

       “I’m sorry. I had a corporate giant on my ass. I couldn't mail you postcards every week.” Miles conceded. Chris leaned over to cover Miles’s hand on the table. He could feel the guilt wafting off Miles, like a sickly stinging scent. When they were avoiding Murkoff, Miles did talk about his mother and family and how they’d be worried sick about him. He’d drive sixty miles away from whatever hotel they’d stay at on the road to find a functional telephone booth to call them. Miles loved his family, but he couldn’t let Murkoff keep getting away with their crimes.

        The physical contact helped as Miles took a deep breath and looked at his mother as she sat back down.

“And I’m here now. It’s all over. Everyone in murkoff is defanged, jailed, or committed suicide.”

      “Only because Murkoff scammed and abused enough people for the country to want them all to burn. If the head executives weren’t such money hungry idiots, you wouldn’t be here mijo.”*

“Yeah, that fucko executive who called all pilots gloried delivery boys when he got sued by airline really fucked shit up for the rest of his people. Every plane in the country wouldn’t take anyone from Murkoff. And they used minorities like lab rats. So not everyone from the sketchiest drug dealers to the cleanest self righteous humanitarian weren’t willing give any Murkoff guy a taxi ride for all the money.” Jose said from the peanut gallery as he poured himself a stolen second serving.

**_“Jose, what did I tell you?”_ **

**_“I’m hungry, Maria. And you guys aren’t the sort to whisper conversations.”_ **Jose complained as he turned around to argue for his second lunch.

      He was about to continue arguing when he looked back at the table. He dropped his bowl in shock when he saw Chris across from Maria.

“Oh, SHIT!” Jose barked as his eyes grew wide from what he was seeing.

          Miles and Maria were so distracted by their intense discussion, no one was looking directly at Chris for a while. Turning back towards him, they saw the reason for Jose’s freak out.  Christopher’s face was aggressively sweltering and red. He already has the start of sweat stains on his shirt from the sweat and tears dripping down his neck.

    “Chris, fuck, I’m sorry.” Miles shot out of his chair to stand closer to Chris. Who was , despite looking like someone dunked his head in boiling water, was mostly calm.

    “What? It’s spicy, but I’m fine. I got milk , see.” Chris lifted the now half empty milk carton next to him.

“Christopher, you look like death. You need to lie down.”

Mrs.Upshur more or less mother henned Chris out of the kitchen before the slow burn in his gut started to swelter. It was a dull but apparent pain growing in Chris’s gut. He had to lay on the ground next to the fan and the couch to be able to spread out. Miles fluttered around Chris trying to cool him down. But honestly, just made him more anxious because of Miles’s anxiety was literally affecting his own scent.

           Miles was putting a cool press to help Chris’s skin cool down as he yelled into the kitchen where his dad was hiding .

“My boyfriend is literally melting from _finishing touches_ Pops. O God. He’s burning up.”

Chris grabbed Miles’s hand and moved him to sit on the couch next to him.

“Miles, I’m fine. It’s just my mom’s genes. She turned this color from eating peppered pasta.”

“We’ve been together and eaten a million things. You never went nuclear meltdown like this.”

“You did say Taco bell was just super mild American food. So , not a lot of chances of me getting like this.”

“You are still red like a burning Oompa Loompa. And if it hurt this much going in. It’s gonna be worse going out.”

Chris cringed at the thought. That was going to a whole world of not fun.

“I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it.”

Maria came in after lecturing her husband for his actions.  She carried out another container of milk and a serving tray for Chris to keep his new cup on.  That way if he spilled, it was contained in the elevated sides of the tray and not the carpet.

“I'm sorry ma’am. It was delicious but it doesn’t agree with me.”  Miles then snarked as he turned on the child safe cooling fan.

“I told you I'm not white. I'm just pale. This is a normal white guys reaction to Pops food.”

His mother sighed and conceded.

“Yes, yes Mijo. Your father is the devil of spices. I’ll deal with my Alpha while you comfort yours okay? Chris please keep drinking the milk. I’ll have Jose whip up his fernet to help with your stomach. It will help you until Jose picks up some tea boxes for you. “  
Chris arched his back and leaned on his hands to look at her and say . “Thank you ma’am. I appreciate the help.”

And so Maria, turned back towards the kitchen to drag her husband into the dining room to “discuss” what just happened.

 

          “You sure, you’re okay?” Miles asked again as he brought back another ice pack for Chris’s neck.

     “Yes. I’m fine. I just got to wait it out.” Chris stretched his arms as he laid across the ground.

“Oh, my God. Mom. Really?” Miles’s held back a laugh as his eyes lit up.

“What?”

“The milk tray.” Miles explained as he snickered.

“Hm?” Chris looked over and the serving tray Maria had brought a serving tray to hold the milk carton. He moved his glass, and revealed a childish cow design on the bottom of the deep serving tray.

“It’s a cute cow. What’s so funny?”

        “It’s the milk tray. My mom bought that out of caution and spite when I was like seven. I just find it hysterical that she still has it and uses it to serve milk.”

Chris knew there had to be a story behind this. Who buys a cute serving tray out of spite? And it’s not like he can do a lot right now besides listen. And rambling usually was Miles’s go to means of calming himself down, besides writing that is.  
    “Okay, so as you obviously can figure out, I like spicy food. Just not as much as most of my family.”

     “Not rocket science. Half the stories I’ve heard so far about your family has been jokes or jabs about you and your family’s conflicting opinions of what’s hot.”

    “Yeah, they can drive a joke into the ground sometimes. But anyway. As a kid, I had...less tolerance for spicy food. So I was practically drinking entire milk gallons by myself for every meal.”

    “Most kids should drink more milk like that. But go on.”

“I drank so much milk , the people at the big convenient store gas station down the street and the grocery store both offered to buy my family a cow. Because every time they saw my family, someone bought milk.”

Chris snorted at the mental image of a tiny Miles riding a heifer cow in their backyard like a pony. It would have been hilarious.

“In any case, I constantly drank milk after dinner. And like most kids, I was a clumsy little shit.”

          “Hmmm.” Chris replied as he went to drink from his own comically large cup of milk from the tray.  
“So anyway. I wasn’t supposed to drink milk outside the kitchen. Because I’d spill it onto the rugs or furniture or people.”

“Makes sense, especially since little kids aren’t the best at cleaning up their own messes.” Chris responded as he sat up to lean against the couch. Leaning against Miles’s leg as the man started to calm down as he talked.

“Understatement my dude. Anyway, like a normal little shit I kept doing it whenever I could get away with it. One time when I was being babysat by a neighbor and the guy fell asleep and my sisters were doing something upstairs. I carefully got the biggest cup of milk I could carry and sat near that chair over there to watch cartoons.” Miles gestured to the weathered recliner with padded sides near the couch.

“I liked watching from the ground for some reason. Felt like a movie drive in. And I couldn’t climb the couch or chair with the milk in hand anyway.”

“Well at least you were trying to not make a mess.”

“Didn’t really help. A raccoon got in the garbage cans by the kitchen door and the banging scared me and I dropped the milk onto the thick white shag carpets.”

“Oh, no. Did the babysitter wake up and get you in trouble?”  
“I wish they did. But no, the dude was dead to the world. I had to deal with this shit on my own. I grabbed all the toilet paper from the bathroom cause I couldn’t reach the paper towels.”  
“Okay, good start.”

“Except it wasn’t nearly enough and only absorbed like a third of the milk. I knew my parents were coming home soon. So I did something equally clever and stupid.”

“What did you do?”

“I cleaned up as much of it as I could with my blankets and pushed the love seat over by a couple inches to cover the wet mark.”

“No!” Chris comically gasped. As he pretended to grasp his pearl necklace in shock. The funny story was a good distraction from the burn in his abdomen.

“Yup. Which covered up the immediate problem but screwed everyone over much later.”

Miles really started to ramble as Chris started to rub his knee with his hand. Miles was so lost in explaining he forgot about why he was so anxious for a moment.

“So anyway , the rug was nailed to the ground. But it couldn’t evaporate so it just stayed under the carpet. It took way longer to go bad because of the lack of air, but once it did. Yikes. It had the nastiest smell.”

“Then you admitted I’m guessing?”

“No. Sadly I thought it’d go away. It did not.”

“Oh dear.”

“It was subtle at first. Everyone who smelled it just thought someone let out a nasty fart when watching tv. Which , is understandable. We were all kids and loved fart jokes.”

Chris listened as he kept drinking the milk. Being especially careful as he put the milk cup back on the tray.

“But it got so bad at some point, but the smell was so intense and because it was near a vent, it carried through most of the house.”

“O my God, Miles.” Chris snickered as he tried to not snort milk out of his nose as he stopped drinking from his cup.

“I know, I fucked up. My mom was CONVINCED something had died in the house or we were living in filth because the smell had wafted into most rooms of the house. We had a cleaning purging from the attic to the basement.”

“And then you got caught.”

“Not yet exactly. It was a whole family effort. We scrubbed, hand cleaned, aired out, soaked in disinfectant, vacuumed, almost every viable surface in the house. We got the smell out of most of the house. But the vacuum couldn’t suck up the source of the smell even after we cleaned the tv room. It made it less obvious of its location, but didn’t get rid of it.”

“Miles, why.”

“My mom was beyond frustrated because the smell was driving her up the wall. But couldn’t find the source. She was like ready to burn down the house to get rid of it after power cleaning the house for weeks.”  
“I’d imagine she’d be.”

“That’s when I admitted to my fuck up.”

“Yeah, either admit it or risk moving.”

“So then my Pops had to rip up all the carpets in the tv and hallway because their all one single rug. Revealing the rancid cheese the milk became between the rug and the hardwood. Needless to say, I got the spanking of a lifetime. And had to clean up the rest of my mess with paper towels myself. Before the rest of my family used boiling water and heavy cleaners to powerwash all the hardwood floors on the first floor to be safe.”

“I imagine it was never boring in your house if there are more stories like this.”

“You’d be right. Anyway, all drinks now have to be placed on the “Cow of Shame” tray when anyone drinks anything outside of the tiled kitchen.”

Chris almost choked on the milk he was drinking from laughing so hard. It took him a minute to recollect any dignity enough to say.

“Cow of shame? It has a freaking title?!”

“Yup. Designated by my siblings for my fuck up. At first it was a joke.”

Miles continued in a slightly higher voice “ _Miles, make sure to use the Cow of Shame when you watch cartoons later._ ” or

_“Miles don’t forget to clean the cow of shame before going to bed.”_

At some point it stopped being a joke and just became a standard name in my family.”

 

Mama Upshur came out of the kitchen after Chris is settled on the ground and comfortable. She brought out a large beer mug filled with what looked to be fizzy coke cola.

“Sorry for this. I should have known better then to leave Jose in the kitchen unwatched. Here is something to help your stomach.”

    “Thank you ma'am. I appreciate it.” he smiled even as he felt a stabbing stomach pain while being handed the mug.

“Just rest. We can talk more when your tummy feels better. Me and Jose are going to just run some errands for the house.”

Jose tiptoed from the kitchen and towards the staircase as his wife talked to Chris. The man would rather clean the house gutters for the street then be dragged around to do errands. So of course, that what Maria was going to do after what just happened?

“Isn’t that right, Corazón?” She said as she turned to pin Jose against the wall.

“.....Yes dear.” Jose relented as Maria dragged him out the front door to do a million errands.

 

      Chris went to drink the fluid but caught a whiff of something and stopped. Is his sense of smell overreacting again?

Miles sat down next to Chris and turned on the remote.

“That's fernet by the way. It is booze and herbs mixed with coke to help you digest the dragon spices.”

“Oh, okay. Like tums in water?”

“This is way more effective with the other symptoms. Just don’t chug it or you’ll be on the can for the weekend.”

Chris cringed at the embarrassing thought. Hi inlaws. I just ate your food and will be trapped in the can for entirety of my visit now. Hell no.

“Thank your mother again for me.”

“Believe me she knows how grateful you’ll be later. The Hoes had a similar thing happen to them when they first visited. Except my Dad brought them to his favorite real Mexican restaurant.”

“Miles?” Chris asked. They’ve reached the point where Miles’s name is just a shorthand way to ask “What the fuck do you mean?”.

“Both my brother in-laws are named Joseph. Joseph Jerry Colin and Joseph Gerardo Colino. No relation. Joseph is the Catholic first name version of the last name Smith, super common and easy to pick name.”

“That makes sense, if you called them Joes or Joeys not...you know.”

“My Pop’s name is the Mexican version of the name Joseph. And long story short, family went to a hole in the wall Chinese restaurant. The waitress was super nice, but had a specific but unidentifiable accent. She called my Dad Hoe-se, Collin’s Hoe, and Holen Hoe-sepi. Needless to say, me and my siblings would not let this linguistic gift that fell in our laps go.”

Chris snickered. “Of course you wouldn’t.”

“No, we wouldn’t. And hey, isn’t your house show on now?” Miles asked. Chris was particular about his schedule and he had memorized the Alpha’s tv show times. Best time to get some writing done or to contact his contacts.

“Oh, yeah. Wanna watch?”

“Sure. We got time to burn….Poor choice of words.”

Chris just smiled and leaned back onto the ground so Miles could lay parallel on the couch. Miles’s dug out the remote and turned the tv on and onto Chris’s show just as the intro music started to play. Chris was still drinking the fernet and milk to help with his stomach. But they both finally relaxed enough to chill as they watched two generic people turn a crap shack into a prospective home.

The doorbell rang halfway through the second episode. Miles rushed to get it since Chris was fighting through another wave of cramps. His long haired sister Esme came in , a baby in each arm. And a grocery bag hanging from her purse.

“Hey, you aren’t dead.”

“Hey, you aren’t either.” They giggled at their bad joke and hugged.

“The boys fell asleep in the car on the way back from Costco. The car’s full of food.” Esme explained ash she carefully put the sleeping babies in the cribs in the dining room. Together they went outside to grab the rest of the groceries. Each other arranged as many heavy bags as the other could carry without spine damage on each trip inside. It took three trips for both of them but they brought all the food inside quietly. It was only when Esme kicked the front door shut on his last trip inside before Chris could hear them over the tv.

He turned to see Esme pulling in the last grocery load.

  
“Do you need help?” Chris asked as he rose to stand. His stomach cramps slowing him down.

     “We got it Chrissy, you just chill.” Miles said from the kitchen doorway as he started to unload the exorbitant amount of food.

“You sure?” Chris asked again as he tried to get up only for a stomach cramp to send him back into his spot again. His stomach lining felt like it was dipped in cartoon villain acids.

“Let me guess. Dad cooked and murdered his guts.”

“No. But Dad gave finishing touches and even that is burning his insides.”

“The struggles of getting into this family.” Esme said with a sarcastic tone.

She motioned towards Chris over the couch.

“Yeah this happened with our guys too. Your throat is going to feel like acid shit for a while. So just chill. We can talk when your insides aren't dying. Our guys aren't coming til tomorrow morning anyway.”

And like that, Esme dragged the bags into the kitchen and went ahead to unpack the absurd amount of food she brought.

Moments later, Miles popped out of the kitchen to ask Chris something. His eyes lit up with mischief. Chris just knew he was up.

“Hey Chris, want some tree testicle mix? It’s the mild kind from the store. My sister must have bought it just incase.”

Chris looked at Miles and checked his pulse and blood pressure watch fervently. Was he suffering a stroke or was he just offered to eat tree testicles?

Esme walked up behind him and smacked the back of her brother’s head.

“My brother is a idiot. He means aguacate mix for salsa chips. He just likes translating things into English that should stay in Spanish.”

“Oh, then maybe later? My stomach is still working on the first bowl of food.” Chris sighed, not knowing what to do. His stomach hurt too much for him to sleep. Nothing good on tv at the moment and it was pretty clear, he wasn’t going to be allowed to do much until he stopped looking like a tomato on fire.  But he hated just twiddling his thumbs as Miles and Esme unpacked the truck full of food.

“Anything I can do to help?” He asked, knowing the answer was probably no.  
“We’re okay in here Chrissy.”

“Maybe check on my boys? Their in the moveable cribs in the dining room. Just check if they’re still asleep or I have to get more milk.”  
“Okay, I’ll go check.” Chris said as he pulled himself up slowly. Using the side of the couch to avoid straining his stomach and lower back.

“Just be careful Chrissy. Or they’ll use their cuteness to hypnotize you into picking them up. It’s baby sorcery.”

“Yeah, there’s no carpet in there. So if they wake up, they’ll scream until lifted out. ”

“It’d’ll be like I wasn’t even there.” Chris scoffed before walking silently down the hall. Most of the lights were turned off, so Chris almost didn’t see the baby gate across the dining room doorway by the front hall.

He carefully stepped over it. The creaky floor started to squeak as he stepped inside. Chris slowed down his steps and leaned against the wall to make less sound. The best place to avoid loud floorboards is always closest to the walls. Taking his time to move towards the cribs, he could clearly hear the children’s snoring in the dark. Peering into the tall cribs revealed the babies sleeping peacefully….Well peacefully despite sleeping in what looks to be a uncomfortable position you’d see a black outed bar fly to be in. Chris almost snickered from the funny pose. He moved their leaking bottles from next to faces. No need to stain their blankets with more formula.

He then carefully motioned back the way he came towards the exit.

By then, his eyes were far more adjusted to the dim lighting. So he could finally make out the fine details of the surroundings. He was careful until he heard a new sound from cribs and turned back as he was moving. He nearly tripped on a toy train, and hit the wall trying to catch his balance. Knocking off a older framed photo off the wall, that he grabbed before hitting the ground with his other hand. He felt like he was in a bad three stooges skit for a moment.  He froze for a moment, waiting for the children to wake up bawling. But there was nothing. He turned his head to see each of the twins just rolled over and went back to sleep.

Chris let out a sigh of relief as he turned to look at what he knocked down.

Upon further inspection, he saw a very familiar outline of wild baby curled hair. He carried the frame out into the hallway for a better look.

The photograph revealed a baby baby naked Miles who was absolutely covered in fingerpaints. There was barely a inch on his body not covered in smudgy colors. *

Chris cooed as he walked towards the kitchen to share his find.

“Miley~” Chris said with a grin as he leaned in the kitchen doorway.

“Why didn’t you tell me you loved painting so much?”

“What?” Miles asked, utterly confused at his boyfriend’s behavior.

Chris didn’t answer. He just smiled and pulled the framed photo out from behind his back. Miles looked stunned as he blushed seeing his photo.

“I forgot about those pictures!” Esme giggled as she took the photo from Chris.

“I tried to forget about those pictures.” Miles said in a embarrassed tone as he took the photograph from his sister. Esme just smiled and let Miles go out of his way to put the framed photo back in the dining room. She leaned closer to Chris, so Miles wouldn’t hear.

“I’m helping mom scan all the baby pics onto her iPad next week. I’ll be sure to send you the link for the album.”

“That’d be wonderful.”

Miles was clearly embarrassed if his nude artist baby pictures. So after hiding it, he turned to Chris.

“Wanna go watch some netflix? Not netflix and chill obviously, but like , old trashy movies?”

Chris smiled as he was led back to his spot by the couch by Miles. It was a fair thing to see Miles truly embarrassed and flustered. So he didn’t push it in regards to asking to see more baby pictures.

Miles put on some trashy old hollywood flick before snuggling against Chris’s side as they watched the movie.

All the excitement and travel lag must have caught up on Chris. He soon drifted off to sleep. Wondering about in his dreams what his and Miles’s child would look like.

 

   Chris was startled into consciousness by the frantically ringing doorbell. It rang like a fire alarm going off.

“Well I know who's at the door.” Miles grinned as he tried to detach himself from under Chris's arm. And rushing off the pillows and towards the front door. Chris flinched when he heard a loud shrill chorus from the front door. Followed by a trample of tiny feet.

Miles walked in with a kid sitting on his shoulders and six young kids and toddlers circling his legs. But he focused on his younger siblings first.

Miles picked up his brother Tomas in a hug before hugging his younger sister Gabriela too.

“I knew you were too stubborn to die.” Tobias said dryly , even tho he hugged Miles back.

“Ma is sooooo mad at you for this.”

“Believe, I know, Gabby. Now, who else wants a hug?”

A chorus of rapid fire Spanish, English, and Spanglish erupted as the rest of the kids swarmed around Miles.

“You’re too pretty to be a zombie.”

 **_“Did you see dead people at the asylum?”_ ** **_  
_ ** _“Thank you for the power rangers!”_

**_“Did you really see a bunch of dead people?”_ **

**_“Did you really see all those monsters? I watched a youtube clip at school and had nightmares.”_ **

Miles shouted over towards Chris in the tv , who was looking over the back of the couch watching.

“I'm their favorite blood uncle!” Miles then trudged towards the tv with little kids straddling his feet. Still asking their many questions about the dead bodies they’ve seen in youtube clips from the video Miles posted.  
“Isn’t Tomas their blood uncle too?And you were gone for most of the time they’ve been alive.”

“.....I've sent presents from Blaire’s credit card. But at least I'm their _biggest_ blood uncle.”

One of the little kids screamed up at Miles.

“Hey, can we play escaped inmate in the jungle gym?”

And the collective kids rallied behind that idea. More or less dragging their new blood uncle to the backyard as Chris laughed watching them do so.

 

        Soon enough, Jose and Maria came back with a British monarchs ransom worth in tea and stomach medications.  Jose tried to slink away after dropping them off in the kitchen. Maria pulled him by the ear into the pantry to whisper yell at him to go apologize already.

Jose skittishly walked up to Chris. “I am really sorry about what happened. I never seen someone's face swell up like that so quickly!”

“It's alright sir. I’m going to be fine. But I'm guessing most of your family hadn't seen anything like my bad reaction to the food either.”

“Probably not. At least  we got all the stomach things like Pepto Bismul and fancy teas Maria swears helps with the cramps in the kitchen.”

One of the kids screamed for grandpa from up the top of the staircase.

“Abuelo! Miles is cheating at Mario Kart!”

“I am not!”

The tension was broken as both men snickered.

‘You better go referee before they start really fighting sir. Miles takes no prisoners when it comes to Mario Kart.”

“Yeah. Id better. Six against one is bad odds in a fight. You just keep relaxing. Maria has a tea kettle on for you now.”

“Thank you sir.”

“I’m Jose, Walker. Jose or Lopez.”

“Okay, Mr.Lopez.”

“Close enough. I gotta go check on the kids. Take care of yourself, or Maria and Miles will worry themselves sick.”

“I’ll try to Mr.Lopez.”

 

Chris started to drift off again as the golf channel softly played in the background. That is, until Camilla came in carrying in a baby who desperately want to be free from her arms. Already tired and ready to yawn as she sat down on the couch by Chris. Chris went to get hoping to at least meet this sister properly.

         “You must be Camilla.” Chris got cut off as Maria opened the back door to scream for the kids and Miles to come inside from the rain. Her yelling was followed by the stampede of kids screaming as they raced up the stairs to get to Miles’s xbox.

         “You must be Chris. Sorry for being late. I picked up me and Esme's kids because the school was near my work anyway.” The woman turned to the sturdy toddler in her arms to make a funny face as she continued talking in a sillier voice.

“Papa made you eat his cooking didn’t he. He never learns. Yes he doesn't”

The baby laughed and clapped at the voices. Before trying to wiggle free from his mother’s arms.

“You mind watching Felix here? I'm famished.”

“Sure. I can watch him.”

“Thanks. I’ll put him in the stand.” Cam got up and pulled a baby seat from the corner of the room from under a blanket. Pulling it close to the couch so the baby could watch sports channel news with Chris.

But when she tried to put the baby down into the seat. The baby would curl his legs up towards his chest, making it impossible to push him into the seat without hurting him.

    “Well aren't you being a little stinker.” Felix just laughed at his mother’s frustrations and dangled his feet up and down. Thinking it was all a silly game. Knowing better than to argue with her child over this. Camilla asked in the sweet but tired baby voice all moms make at some point.  

“Do you want to scoot?” Felix the baby clapped and made the shrieking sound.

“Scooting it is then.” Camilla relented. She then turned towards Chris on the ground and placed her child near the end of Chris’s feet. She then explained, as the child “scooted” backwards towards Chris.

“He’s only a year old. So can crawl now but he loves to like scoot backwards. He thinks it's the funniest thing.”

Chris laughed at the baby’s cute antics. “Well, at least he’s getting a work out.”

Chris sat up so he could turn the baby around whenever they got too far away while scooting around the tv room.

 

       Miles watches them play scoot” from the kitchen doorway. He was biting through his lip to not scream over how cute the scene was. He thought his mother was still in the pantry when he turned to his sister and said.

“I want to have his babies. This is too cute to be legal. Look how cute he is with kids!”

Mrs.Upshur snuck up behind her child hiding in the doorway to flick the back of his neck. Then softly lecturing him as he cringed and backed away from the doorway.

“Not before a wedding. Make a honest Alpha out of him first. Now just bring him some food so he doesn’t starve while watching the fire cracker.”

Miles relented and started to make PB & J sandwiches in bulk. Camilla, tired and pregnant and half asleep in the kitchen chair gave her two cents.

“Yeah, no baby rabies until marriage. That way he won’t scream and run off when you rage. But that just might be me.”

While Miles was distracted by Camilla, Esme stole half of a finished sandwich from the large plate Miles was making.

“Your guys a beta, he knew who he was marrying before proposed to you sis. Plus, you have to deal with hormones, I would have hormones and figuring out how to wear actual bras.”

Maria criticized at her son for only making PB&Js for his boyfriend. At least make him some sort of pasta. Something not so childish.

“My son can take down a entire corporate monster. But he can't make anything beyond boiling water without supervision.”

“You chased most of us out of the kitchen every time you were cooking growing up. I didn't figure out how to turn the oven until I was ten. I got a learning curb to deal with.”

When Miles finished making a tray of sandwiches, he walked into the tv room to find the Twins had woken up too. Ready to play apparently too.

Chris was lifting them each up in one hand while lying on his back. He was cooing and lifting up facing the fan and saying.

“Woah, it’s the Super Babies! Look a them go! Is it a bird? Is it a plane? No! It’s the Super Babies!”

Both of the babies were laughing and wiggling in Chris’s encompassing palms. But Chris had a perfect grip to keep them steady while not hurting them at all. They were having the time of their short lives at the moment.

Miles’s chest fluttered as he stood there stunned to sentimental mush in the doorway. Eventually Chris put the babies down and they started to climb all over Chris or against the furniture next to him. The babies thought Chris was like a giant playground that played with you because he was SO big in comparison. Chris flustered and nearly knocked Felix over when Remus tried to grab something in Chris’s fanny pack.

“No, Remy, that’s not for babies.” Chris chided before distracting Remus with a dog beanie baby from nearby.

Chris hearing Miles’s footsteps, looked up from the ground as Felix started to play with Chris’s face.

Chris said with a soft grin. “We’re a little busy over here.”

“I can see that. I’ll just put this on the table.”

    As Miles went to put the food on the table, Remus his namesake climbed the couch ledge. Expecting Chris’s praise and attention, only to see Chris was distracted with lifting Felix like Superman now . Feeling snubbed, Remus did what any envious toddler without self preservation would do.

He leapt from the edge of the couch, onto Chris’s stomach like a trampoline.

Which was sorta okay, since Chris was leaning against the couch, so he didn’t fall and break his neck. But Chris wish that he himself died at that moment of impact. Remus had landed square on top of his burning lower intestines and forced all the pent up air outwards. Releasing a comically loud fart to escape and echo against the rug and hardwood floors beneath him.

          Chris face flashed from pale pink to corpse white and back to red oompa loompa red as the fart lasted almost thirty seconds. All the babies laughed at Chris’s funny face. Miles just snorted from the unexpectedness of the thing. Chris carefully removed the toddlers and ran to hide in the bathroom. Miles followed him after putting the babies in their walkers so they couldn’t get into trouble.

“Chris , you okay?”

“.........No. I just made a ass of myself in front of your family.”

“It's alright, it was funny Chris."

"I farted. it echoed Miley. My fart ECHOED THROUGH THE HOUSE. Your neighbors probably heard it too."

“Our neighbors are culo assholes. Who’ve heard a lot worse shit. And my parents understand. You ate my Pop’s cooking. If you weren’t a hot air balloon or dying inside, they’d be very concerned.”

“It’s still so embarrassing. I’m just going to wait it out in here, until I’m less….you know.”

Miles watched as the little kids stormed down the stairs. Complaining that Miles’s tv was broken and they wanted to play Ultimate fighter.

“Okay, Your dinner will be on the table when you are ready to join us again. But just be ready to come back to a room of kiddos. They’re laying claim to the tv room.”

Chris spent a hour dealing with the unmentionable side effects of the fernet and airing out the bathroom with the open windows before rejoining.

There apparently was a game tournament between the kids. With candy prizes and bets on the rounds too. Chris just stayed quiet and took a spot on the empty couch. All the kids circled around the larger tv like it was a sports event.

As Chris sat down on the couch, Jose walked up to tell him.

   “I’m still sorry about before. How about I introduce you to the other small wild child in the family.”

Chris did a quick checklist in his head of who he’s met with today. Yeah, four siblings , nieces, nephews, and parents. He should have met everyone. Did he forget someone? Chris got very quiet as he just smiled and nodded and hoped he wasn’t being rude and forgot someone.

All the kids started to giggled and said they want to see this in Spanish. The kids even paused the fighting game to see what’s gonna happen. Mr.Lopez just smiled as he walked into the kitchen and off towards the right out of view. The kids just started to get more excited. Which made Chris _very nervous_.

 

       A cracking noise of a wood lock was heard from the kitchen. But then suddenly, A tiny lightning fast ball of fur raced into the tv room. It whizzed around the children sitting on the floor before double jumping from a baby walking toy to the couch seat armrest . Then jumps from the arm rest to the back of the couch so it’s at eye level with  Chris's chest. Once it landed, Chris could finally see what it was. It was a large long haired chihuahua , snarling as he smelled Chris. No idea how to react to the situation, Chris froze. The dog was size of a small grapefruit but markings of a German shepherd and the bark volume of a Rottweiler on helium. But it was clear, one wrong move and Chris would have to get another nose replacement surgery from that black market guy.

           After a moment , Chris just weakly smiled and said. “Hi there Little guy.”

That was enough time for the dog to smell Chris out and decide he was okay. He started to lick Chris’s face, making Chris laugh at the sensation. Cleaning off any peanut butter or jam that edged on his chin or hands.

Maria walked in and saw what was going on.

“You just had to show off your dog, didn’t you Jose?”

“I wanted to tell the story of the “other Mile” in the family. It’s a funny story, Mi cielito.”

“It’s a funny story that you always embellish.”

“Maria~ Come on.”

Maria leaned back into the kitchen.

“Camilla, Miles, watch the stove.” Before she walked over and sat next to Chris on the couch. The dog leaped off Chris’s chest and shoulders to sit on her lap politely. She rewarded the dog’s behavior with some ear scratching.

“I'm telling the story. Jose always mixes things up or curses. It went like this. We passed by this animal shelter thing near the stores. It was in the afternoon when most people were starting to go home. So not so people and not so many dogs left.  We walk around to wait until something came up. A movie time or friend I can't remember. “

The dog in question started to grow impatient and Maria let him go free to play with the kids listening on the floor. The dog leapt to the ground like a gymnast and then flopped down next to the little kids. Staying still as the younger set started to pet grab his ears. The dog didn’t even growl as a toddler tried to grab his long tail as it wagged back and forth. It was clear this dog was a seasoned baby watcher.

Maria didn’t even lose a beat as she continued her story.

“We were heading to leave and we hear a sad noise from what we thought was a empty pen. We follow the sound thinking a dog got hurt. We find this ghost pale little clump of fur in the bottom of a box inside the pen. I could fit him in my mom jean pockets he was so small.  He was all alone and crying far away from all the others. We brought him to the head of the shelter people to ask why.

The lady  then just told us plainly.

         " _He annoys all the other dogs._ ”

Jose butted in to say “No Mia, he said “ _He’s annoying the fuck out of the others. And getting into brawls with the older dogs._ ”

Maria frowned at her husband’s interruption.

“I was rewording it because of the children , Tonto.”

Jose shrugged and cringed as he remembered how many of the children just heard him swear. Maria took a deep breath and continued.

“Anyway, the person explained why the dog was there. And so my Alpha husband Jose went

“ _Oh?_ ” Like he was surprised. Even as he kept petting the puppy that was trying to bite his fingers even though the baby didn’t have any teeth grown in yet. And then the dog lady said.

 _“Yeah. Barks a lot but can't fight. And he’s the runt and we thought he was albino when we got him. Cause all his siblings are brown or black when they were born. But he came out white and beige.”_ At that point, I didn’t even have to look at Jose to know his smile was getting bigger at the news. I could feel the glee coming off him like a siren alarm. Jose then said.

‘I think he’s pretty cute.” He said as he lifted the puppy to his face. Mile , the dog then started to lick my husbands face like it was a ice cream. He was still so excited to be petted and played with. The dog lady then said.

“He might be cute but he’s likely a lifer. The last person who tried to adopt him didn’t even leave the parking lot before he got sick of him. He turned around and returned him. This little guy is just a tiny cute annoying pale little shit sir."

"What's his name?" Jose asked as if he wasn’t already trying to remember how much cash he had on hand. The puppy had already started to quiet down and nuzzle him. Jose was already half in love with this creature. The lady then told us how this barely two month old baby got his name.

"Mile. He was just “Milky” before. But again, last guy didn’t even drive out of the lot before sending him back. So now he’s just unlucky Mile. Because he didn’t make it a mile out of the cage" Then my husband said, all sure of himself.

"Where do I sign? This is my dog now."

I was trying too hard not to laugh as this was happening to say no. I knew my Alpha, we were getting the dog.”

And then Jose butted in again. “Afterwards, we had to tell the difference of Mile and Miles by calling the dog Fuzzy Mile and Miles “human Miles”.”

 

Chris smiled and laughed as he listened to the story. It was a cruel name, that they made into something that made the family smile. His laughing however got Fuzzy Mile’s attention. The dog carefully detached himself from the children’s grip. And got a running start to jump again like before, to demand Chris’s attention again.

Jose giggled like a child as he watched “Mile” literally lick Chris with aggressive affections.  
“This guy almost likes you as much as the non fuzzy Mile.”

“Guys, dinner is almost ready.” Miles said as he walked into the tv room with another milk carton for Chris. The small dog on Chris’s shoulder started to bark with such veracity, he nearly fell off Chris’s bulky shoulder.

“Well hello to you too , you little shit.”

“Be nice to your brother.” Maria joked as she got up again.

“He’s a dog!”

“He’s family.” Jose quipped as he bounced Remus on his knee.

“He’s a diva. Anyway, the foods almost ready. Put him in the mudroom. Unless you want the kids to feed him their leftovers and we end up with two “alpha dogs” with stomach problems in this house.”

Jose’s nose scrunched up at the thought. He snapped his fingers and walked towards the kitchen saying. “Come on Mile, back to your room.”

The small creature stopped barking and sprinted to follow her into the kitchen and towards the mudroom. Maria quietly followed to check on the food.

 

Miles turned back to the swarm of kids speaking in rapid fire Spanish.

“Abuela made dinner. But Abuelo got to it. Who wants to see if they can change colors by eating it?”

A chorus of different reactions erupted from the hallway. A scramble to the kitchen table was heard soon after. Chris wondered how they were going to fit all the kids in the kitchen. Miles did say they don’t use the dining table much. But he didn’t think all the kids eat in the kitchen.

As the kids got their food, the eldest, Tomas asked his mother.

“Abuelo, can we watch Batman with Chris and eat dinner?”

“Is everyone’s chores finished.”

“Yes Abuela. We worked on our homework at free period too.”

“Then ask him and bring napkins. And don’t be rude”

Chris was just chilling and channel flipping as he drank some more tea from Mrs.Upshur when a kid tugged his sleeve.

“You Mr.Fresa?” Said one of the younger cousins. Frederick, Chris thinks.

“I don’t think so?” Chris replied, not knowing who the hell Mr.Strawberry was. A cousin? A family friend? A imaginary friend of the kids?

Tomas butted in as he took a seat by Chris on the couch and explained.

“You’re Miles boyfriend who bought fancy wine and turned red when you ate food right?”

“Yeah?” Chris confirmed, still confused.

“Fresa is rich boy in Mexican and strawberry in Argentinian. So your nickname is Mr.Fresa now.”

“.....Alright then.” Chris conceded. It's kid logic, not a lot of ways to argue. And honestly, it's a nicer nickname then he had around that age. The nickname “gorge” nickname haunted him well into high school. Being called Mr.Strawberry wasn't so bad.

He switched the tv to one of those vintage cartoon networks to watch “Batman The Animated Series”. It was a quiet dinner, with the occasional random question from the kids during the commercials.

“You could be Bane your so big. Do you have super juice like him? Did Murkoff make you super juice?”

“No. I drank milk and ate my veggies.”

After all the older kids finished their dinner, Maria came in to tell them all.

        “Put your dishes in the sink. Then go up to your mother’s room and start your homework.” She said as she walked in while drying a stove pan with a clean rag.

“But Abuela, it’s Friday~” The kids pleaded as the shuffled into the kitchen to hand off the plates to Abuelo. Who was stuck with rinsing and washing machine duty indefinitely.

“No buts. Start it now so you can relax after. Unless you want to do all your school work and your Sunday school work after mass on Sunday. Instead of playing on the water slide Abuelo bought.”

The kids gave a joyous scream at the word “water slide”. Followed by questions of what kind, how big , and how fast they can go on the slide.

“No water slide talk until everyone works on their homework until bed.”

“Uhhhhh, Abuelo.”

“Just get most of it done before bedtime.”

The older kids pouted as they grabbed their book bags and settled at the dining room table to work. While the younger kids ran around Chris and Jose a little more. Giggling and squealing as they played peek-a-boo and threw their toys like it was a game. Eventually wearing themselves out. And letting their mothers carry them upstairs to be put to bed.

           It took a long while for Miles parents and sisters to get all the babies bathed, dressed, and worn out enough to go to bed. And even longer for them to tuck all the older kids into bed after helping them with homework. By ten, majority of the family was ready to turn in.

       Maria set poured and handed Chris another large cup of tea in the tv room. She then set the ground rules.

“Here is some Té de burro tea to help you sleep through the night. I’ll get you some pillows so you can sleep here. You and my son aren't married yet. So no bed sharing under my roof.”

“.... Yes ma'am. Thank you for the tea.” Chris agreed reluctantly as he sat back on the ground. He logically understood why he can't. But he and Miles have been sharing the same sleeping area for six years. So it just felt wrong going to bed, without Miles next to him. Or at least not in the same room. But Chris sucked it up. Even tho Miles pouted as his mother followed him up the staircase. No couch snuggling for them tonight.

* * *

 

          Chris was too awake to try and sleep. So he settled in and watched reruns of his Mom’s old favorite show, The Nanny. It was only dumb luck that he found it. He spent a while trying to find something not clogged with infomercials or Spanish news outlets.  During a lull of a knock off Geico commercial, Chris took off his fanny pack. And went out of his way to velcro and unzip it to take something out of the hidden pocket. A folded up crumpled ring catalogue page he had tucked away. The page had already started to lose some color from the fading ink. But Chris had used a pen to circle and rewrite the names of the rings he thought Miles _might_ like. Taking it out, he tried to ponder which was the right ring or at least type of ring to look up at other places. He didn’t want to propose to his Miles with just a generic ring. He knew there was no such thing as the “Perfect Ring” to propose with. But he just wanted to get Miles the ring that was perfect _to_ Miles.

Chris nearly crushed the paper as a small voice came from the foyer hallway behind the couch.

“Hey Mr.Fresa?”

Chris fumbled to fold the paper enough to shove into his fanny pack. Luckily the kids were far away and unaware of what Chris was doing. They were all fumbling into the tv,  rubbing their sleepy eyes and dragging their blankets behind them.

“Wh-what are you guys doing up?”

“Our cousins are snoring. Can’t sleep.”

“Yeah, they sound morsos. You know, that seal thing with saber tooth tiger teeth.”

“He means walrus. Morsos are Walruses.” Corrected Miles’s younger sister Gabriela as she trudged in and took the loveseat next to the couch. One of the younger kids, was 5 or 6, named Peter, chimed in to ask.

“Can we watch Dragon Ball Z in here?” A couple of the kids had already settled onto the couch before Chris realized it was happening. It’d be way too much work to rally all them back upstairs without waking the rest of the household.

“Only if you promise to go to sleep on the couch after it's over.”

“Deal. It beats sleeping near the babies.”

Chris drifted in and out as the kids watched some Japanese cartoon of martial artists flying around. He only vaguely heard of the show, but he had no idea what was going on. So he just took the time to use the restroom or sort his suitcase or got some stomach medications in the kitchen. Eventually tucking the kids in their spots on the furniture after they’ve fallen asleep during the third episode.

He eventually fell asleep himself on the ground. Daydreaming about how exactly to propose to his Omega.


End file.
